Cautiously walking up those famous steps
made of sparkling and shimmering stone,
he inhaled the mist from the tops of the clouds
when he suddenly realized that he wasn’t alone.

In front of the massive iron rods stood St. Peter,
so calm and collected, yet his smile seemed hollow.
The gatekeeper’s keys jingled and he said, “Welcome to Heaven”
as he opened the gates and motioned for him to follow.

Peter led him through a kaleidoscope of his memories:
playing fetch with his dog when he was ten,
smoking his first cigarette in the school locker room,
running through Vietnam with his Buddy, Ben,
kissing his redhead under the banner that read Bride and Groom,
the first time his daughter prayed and whispered “Amen.”,
seeing his first grandson on the monitor while in the womb,
and cursing at God for letting his cancer come back again.

His 82 years of life flashed before his eyes
as he walked alongside the keeper of the keys.
When they reached an oversized solid white door,
Peter turned towards him with such grace and ease.

"Beyond this door, is your own personal Heaven
and what lies ahead is what your heart craves most."
His blood began to pump faster and faster as Peter
pushed the door open to reveal a bright blue coast.

He nodded a thank you to the Saint as he stepped
through the doorway and his toes touched the sand.
He inhaled the crisp sea salt air before an angel whispered,
"I’ve missed you" as she gently grabbed his hand.

His redhead wore a smile brighter than stars
and she wrapped her arms around him in a loving embrace.
Just then, he noticed a man in white walking towards them.
She leaned in and whispered, "Are you ready to see God's face?"